


A Breathless Moment

by choking_on_roses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Top!Yuuri, bottom!viktor, like lots and lots of kissing, post ep 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 17:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8632570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choking_on_roses/pseuds/choking_on_roses
Summary: "I don't care what anyone thinks. Only you."
There's a tightness around Viktor's eyes, a reminder that there will be consequences for them. But the weight of all that is nothing, lost in the gravity of what they mean to each other, what they can do for each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up 15 minutes late with starbucks* anyway......that episode 7 tho what the hell is this show tryna do to my heart
> 
> UPDATE: the marvelous and sweet [gumisae](http://gumisae.tumblr.com/) drew some [absolutely gorgeous fanart](http://gumisae.tumblr.com/post/153587753778/hides-face-in-shame-everyone-needs-to-read-this) to go along with this fic!! Ahhh my heart's gonna explode i swear!

Viktor's fingers are steady, but his palm sweats against Yuuri's as he takes the lead, striding down the hotel hallway quickly enough to leave the journalists straggling behind. Yuuri squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back, heart racing more than it should. More than it ever has with anyone else. He doesn't stop until they're in front of the door to Yuuri's room, and only then does he hazard a glance at Yuuri's face.

Yuuri's staring at him, unblinking, the shine in his eyes unmistakable. His cheeks are still pink, hair still in disarray (though Viktor had tried his best to rearrange it for him before photo ops.) He beams, _happily,_ and Viktor's chest swells with the joy it gives him. He has to release Yuuri's hand to fish the keycard from his wallet and open the door, and though he misses the warmth almost immediately, Yuuri's right behind him as he enters the room, so close their close brush as they both bend down to remove their shoes.

As they stand upright again, their eyes meet, and Yuuri's blush deepens. How can someone show so much emotion, so much _openness_ and _vulnerability,_ on one face? Every emotion flits by so easily, fully embraced and expressed, in a way Viktor can't even comprehend. He cups Yuuri's face, studying it- every peach-soft little hair on his cheek, the dry skin at the corner of his bottom lip, the length of his eyelashes. The dark shadows beneath his eyes, the creases at the bridge of his nose. Only a few hours ago, those bright eyes were brimming with tears; pain, hurt, _betrayal,_ brought on by careless words.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Viktor says, hoping to convey his sincerity through his fingers. He knows he doesn't have quite the same way with expressions that Yuuri does, but nevertheless, something must show through. Because Yuuri sighs, relaxing his jaw and leaning into Viktor's hand, almost nuzzling it. His own hand rises to rest overtop of Viktor's, the other tentatively reaching out before pressing softly against Viktor's chest, fingers splayed. It's as if he's physically reached right through Viktor's ribs and squeezed his heart , for how it's racing like these last few beats will be its last.

"I forgive you," he says, a serene smile spreading over his face. And Viktor knows that _this_ is the kind of expression he's going to strive to put on Yuuri's face for the rest of their time together. Their long, long time.

"I...have no idea what I'm doing, really," Viktor admits, a little thrill of shame zipping up his spine. "I'm not used to coaching." _Those shocked, wide eyes, shimmering with overwhelming pain-_

Yuuri grounds him back in the moment with a gentle pinch. Now he's frowning a little, eyebrows furrowed in that stern way that makes him look like a very resolute bunny rabbit. _Lethal._ "You didn't say the wrong thing as a _coach,_ " he starts, voice passionate and strong. "You said the wrong thing as a...." Now he stops, startled, eyes going wide. Somehow he's looking oh so very pale, fragile, but Viktor knows for a fact that he is not. He grazes his thumb over Yuuri's cheek, the tip almost touching the dark circle under his eye.

He keeps his back ramrod straight, eyes locked with Yuuri's, willing him not to shy away. "As a...?"

"You kissed me," Yuuri says, blinking hard, like a deer caught in headlights. "I..." And his pale cheeks flush dark and rosy, his eyes shimmering once again. "Viktor..."

He's _still_ squeezing Viktor's heart, and evidently now his lungs, too, for how difficult it is to draw sufficient breath. _Say it._ "Yes?"

Yuuri gulps, fingertips digging into the front of Viktor's shirt, determination creasing his features. " _Kiss me again._ "

And Viktor smiles, the knot at the back of his brain going fuzzy as he tilts his head, low enough to meet Yuuri's lips.

His kiss is far sweeter than any Viktor has ever known. It's not just the soft brush of his lips, growing ever less hesitant, or the gentle caress of his warm fingers on the back of Viktor's neck; everything about him is sweet, infused with compassion and tenderness. His kiss is born from genuine _love._

Viktor has known passion; he's known lust, desire. He's even known the desperation of simply not wanting to spend the night alone. But never this. Never something so _hot;_ not like a flame is hot, but the strength of something bathed in summer sun.

His chest is still constricted, air slowly deflating out of him as he gives everything he has to the one encircled by his arms. His fingers find their way into Yuuri's hair, which is a little matted from hair gel and sweat, but still smooth, and he uses his grip to help guide Yuuri's head when he adjusts the angle, parting his lips slightly as he remembers what breathing is.

Only to have the breath entirely knocked out of him when Yuuri takes full advantage of his weakness, sliding his tongue over Viktor's bottom lip before drawing back, gazing up with dark eyes more devious than Viktor's ever seen them. Or perhaps not. He's lost to _eros,_ licking his lips as he stares hungrily somewhere below Viktor's eyes. "Again."

Viktor smirks and presses his lips against Yuuri's once more, prepared to take it further this time. Yuuri's doing it, _really_ doing it, clinging tightly around Viktor's neck, slipping him tongue. It feels as natural as skating, if a far cry less smooth. Viktor strongly suspects Yuuri has little to no experience in this arena, but heck, if he isn't a fast and dedicated learner.

Somehow, Viktor manages to shrug out of his jacket, and then Yuuri's glasses are gone and he's not sure where they went, just that they aren't getting in the way anymore. And they're still kissing, and Viktor _can't stop touching Yuuri's face._ His skin is so smooth, cheeks so hot, the fine hairs around his ears as soft as goose down.

Then Yuuri shoves him, enough that he steps back, knees bending as they collide with the bed. He falls onto his back, bouncing once or twice on the creaky springs before he's able to push himself up on his elbows, genuinely surprised once again, but excited. Yuuri stands between his legs, looking down at him, pensive. Viktor cocks his head to the side, interested in his next move. "Are you going to make love to me?"

The reaction to that isn't anything _close_ to Viktor's expectations. Instead of going red and frantic, Yuuri maintains eye contact, hands steady on his hips. He's not nervous. He's not _scared._ Viktor's heart flutters in his chest as he touches briefly on the true extent of his feelings. Really, this is something to be terrified over, yet he's not.

"Yes...I want to," Yuuri whispers, as if this is the first time he's admitted it to himself, let alone anyone else. His eyes tighten, shimmering again in that dangerous way, the way that makes Viktor feel like an ignorant child all over again. "I love you," he says plainly. " _That's_ why I don't want you to leave."

The guilt stabs Viktor's chest again like a dozen tiny needles. He pushes himself up from the bed, and still seated on the edge, wraps his arms around Yuuri's back, nuzzling his face against his chest. "I'm sorry, Yuuri. I'm not leaving. I never meant I was going to leave." He can hear Yuuri's heart beating against his cheek. _Love. What a strange concept._

"I know," Yuuri says, voice full of fondness, but scary with solemnity. "I know you love me."

All Viktor can do is squeeze Yuuri more tightly to him, as if he can transfer his feelings through hug-strength alone. Because loving people...loving people is hard, and admitting it is harder, and Yuuri just might be the bravest person Viktor's encountered for letting himself be so vulnerable, for letting people in flaws and all. For _loving_ someone so flawed, for recognizing it, even when the rest of the world insists on putting Viktor behind barriers, like a piece on display in a museum. "I don't usually kiss people on international television," he murmurs.

"You love me," Yuuri giggles, more strength in his voice now. He places his hands on Viktor's cheeks, tenderly lifting his face so their eyes can meet. "I'm not wrong."

If only Viktor could gaze upon that glowing face all evening. But...there are _so many_ other things to be done. "I love you."

Yuuri almost squishes his face this time when he bends down for a kiss, and it's messy and uncoordinated but just as sweet as the first, and Viktor can sense a growing hunger in Yuuri's movements, one that has him both thrilled but caught in momentary disbelief. Yuuri sighs softly into Viktor's mouth, swaying, and Viktor catches his hips to steady him before breaking the kiss. He remains close, Yuuri closing the inch between them so their foreheads touch, and even though he's so close that the view of him is distorted and blurry, Viktor can see the exhaustion in his face. "You need to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep," Yuuri argues, putting up exactly zero resistance as Viktor pulls him down next to him on the bed, where he lands with all the grace of a limp puppet. He blinks slowly, reaching out to cling to Viktor's sleeve. "You kissed me," he mutters, lids stuck half-closed. "How can I sleep?"

Viktor turns on his side, shifting so Yuuri's cradled against the length of his body, throwing his arm over Yuuri's chest to pull him in closer. "I'll kiss you until you fall asleep," he says. "And I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay," Yuuri replies, dragging the back of his hand over moist eyes. His tears are probably due to over-exhaustion this time, making them far less scary.

Viktor catches Yuuri's hand and pulls it away from his face. "Crying again, but...will kissing fix it this time?"

"Yes," Yuuri says, an echo of feeble laughter in his throat. And Viktor kisses him, brushing the tears from his eyes with his thumb, twining his tongue with Yuuri's and presses his lips against his from every angle, softly ruffling his hair, feeling his heartbeat until it slows, and Yuuri's finally fallen asleep in his arms.

Lying completely still with the man he loves against his chest instead of squirming and cuddling him as much as he likes proves to be almost as difficult as winning a gold medal. _Almost._

 

 

 

 

 

Yuuri's even more beautiful when he sleeps. Viktor hasn't had a real chance to watch him before, as he's usually the one falling asleep first, and their chances to sleep next to each other in the past have been few and far between, in no small part due to Yuuri's avoidance of it.

Viktor's phone drops into his lap when he shifts to a more comfortable position, the video of Yuuri's routine he'd been reviewing still playing with no volume, the gentle glow from the screen washing Yuuri's sleeping face with pale light. His dark lashes fan across his cheeks, the anxious furrow in his brow completely relaxed. His eyebrows are such a dark, rich colour, black hair spilling over his forehead like ink. Viktor reaches out impulsively, careful not to wake him, and cards his fingers through Yuuri's hair, caressing his face.

For a moment, Yuuri doesn't respond to the touch, his only movement the steady swell and dip of his chest as he breathes. The greed in Viktor's heart grows; he strokes Yuuri's jawline with his thumb, then leans down to press his lips on Yuuri's forehead, slowly tracing one eyebrow with his bottom lip before pulling away. Now he's pushed his luck, because Yuuri's stirring softly, fathomless brown eyes opening, gazing, unseeing, on Viktor's face.

Yuuri catches Viktor's wrist and pulls it to his mouth, kissing his palm. "In the morning," he mumbles, clearly out of sorts.

Viktor sighs and props his chin on his hand, stretched on his side with his body facing Yuuri's. Yuuri curls into him, resting his cheek on Viktor's collarbone, still holding fast to his hand. His eyes have already started to close. "What about the morning?" Viktor prompts him tenderly, heart beating so fast he's worried it might cause a distraction.

"We'll have sex," Yuuri says matter-of-factly.

"Okay," Viktor replies, but Yuuri's already drifted back off.

 

 

 

 

 

Soft sunlight seeps through the curtains, waking Yuuri more by the warmth on his face than the light. He's cushioned by the fluffy comforter, a pillow under his head. An exploratory hand reveals he's no longer wearing pants, though his underwear and shirt are still on. He lies back for a moment and appreciates the comfort of lazing in bed, before finally asking himself what time it is. He gropes for his phone on the bedside table, clicking the 'home' button to light up the screen. Almost nine in the morning, which explains how light it is out. He's been asleep for well over twelve hours, and he's got... _37 missed calls._ Along with a myriad of text messages and other social media notifications. Why hadn't any of these woken him up? Why had-

And suddenly he remembers _everything,_ the shock hitting him like ice water, spreading tingles all the way to the tips of his toes. He sits up quick enough to make himself dizzy, looking for Viktor. He's not in sight, but _oh,_ the shower's going. He lies back, trying to calm his breathing, and tries to go over the exact details of yesterday's events.

His ass and shoulder blades still hurt from being knocked on his back, a rather bruising reminder of what Viktor had done.

He's still reimagining the brush of Viktor's lips on his when the shower stops. He's nervous, but elated, and only has a few minutes to collect himself before the bathroom door swings open. Viktor's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, a big, genuine smile on his face. "Yuuri! Good morning!"

Yuuri swallows hard, transfixed by how _real_ Viktor looks. How he's standing there just like normal, completely comfortable in his skin. Even if it's making Yuuri sweat. Seeing Viktor naked countless times in the hotsprings had not sufficiently prepared him for this moment. But now he can allow himself the luxury of staring, letting his eyes rove over the outline of Viktor's muscles, lingering on the v-lines disappearing into the towel. He knows _exactly_ what's under there. And now he can look. Probably. If he asks. "Morning."

Viktor lets out a small hum, the bridge of his nose dusted faintly pink, though that could just be a result of the hot shower. A few stray droplets drip from his bangs onto his chest, and Yuuri watches them slide over his skin, down every groove of his abs, understanding for the first time what it's like to be genuinely envious of a drop of water. "I put your phone on silent because your mom wouldn't stop calling," Viktor explains, nodding to the cellphone that Yuuri's still gripping tightly in his hand.

"She must have questions," Yuuri says, putting his phone down and picking up his glasses instead, shoving them on so he can study Viktor in high definition. "She'll probably ask if you're my boyfriend." His face heats up and his stomach flutters just from saying it, but he doesn't let his nerves take over.

Viktor's lips curve into a mischievous smile as he reaches for the towel, tugging it off his hips in one smooth motion and bringing it up to dry his hair. His cock is such a pretty shape, pink at the tip compared to his pale skin. He carries himself so casually, so confidently, that even doing such a menial task becomes erotic. "Am I?"

Yuuri blinks. "Huh?"

"Am I your boyfriend?" He's still patting his hair dry, making a very effective show of it. "What are you going to tell your mom?" And there's nothing below the waist that needs to be dried at all, which is somewhat different than Yuuri remembers. So he'd _shaved._

Yuuri hugs his knees to his chest, body nearly numb save for the heat settling low in his belly. He'd been aware of his attraction to men for a while, before Viktor ever entered his life, but now the reality of just how gay he is has his head spinning. This is a thing that's truly and honestly happening. There's no way it can be denied that Viktor's turning him on. "I want you to be."

"Good," Viktor says, tossing the towel on the floor. He advances, crawling up the foot of the bed, eyes bright and wide. "I want to be, too." Yuuri can hardly think. All he knows is that he wants all the layers of fabric between them- the blanket, his shirt, his briefs- gone, and the fastest way he can think to make that happen is by leaning forward to meet Viktor with a kiss, reaching out to grab him around the biceps and pull him in. Viktor chortles against his lips, kissing him teasingly soft while he runs his hands up the outside of Yuuri's thighs.

_You're mine, mine, mine!_ Yuuri thinks, happily sliding his hands over Viktor's back muscles while their tongues glide against each other. Viktor's mouth tastes like toothpaste- it's nice, since as Yuuri's recently discovered, saliva has a weird flavour, although definitely not weird enough to detract from the experience. Soon his lips are numb, his tongue coated in Viktor's taste, his mouth a lot more sticky and sloppy than he'd like it to be, but he can't stop. He wants more, like he's thirsty, enough that a million kisses couldn't quench it, even if the sounds they're making are sort of embarrassing, even if this isn't anything like he'd imagined from all the times he'd seen it on TV. Too busy practicing to go on dates, too uncertain with himself and his sexuality to ask anyone. Now he has no experience but he just doesn't care, following Viktor's lead, trying whatever he wants because Viktor _loves him,_ and he _can_ do this, because they've kissed in front of thousands and there's no reason to hold anything back anymore.

He stops only once he's half-suffocated from forgetting to breathe through his nose, heart beating about ten thousand times a minute, waves of arousal coursing between his legs so intensely that he almost feels nauseous from it.

And then Viktor's pressing soft kisses along his jaw, down his throat, nuzzling his collarbone with his nose, and Yuuri's clinging to his shoulders like it'll save him from the tide coming in, because this is _really happening,_ and it feels so sensual and good to have the person he loves, the _man_ he loves, touching him so tenderly that he can't help but tilt his head back and moan.

"You want to make love?" he asks, and the way his accent curls around the words makes it sound so much more erotic, more so than any other phrasing he could use, because yes, Yuuri wants love, wants to make it more than anything. With Viktor. Boyfriend first, coach second, 'idol' somewhere far past them in the distance.

"Yes," Yuuri assures him, combing through Viktor's hair with his fingers. It's still damp, his long bangs sticking to Yuuri's skin as he continues his trail of kisses, moving down his chest, his stomach, hands sliding into the waistband of his underwear. Yuuri blushes hard the minute Viktor pulls them down, because he's _hard,_ and his pubic hair isn't nicely shaved like Viktor's, and nobody's ever seen him like this before.

Viktor pauses, face only a few inches away from Yuuri's crotch, his sharp blue eyes taking everything in.  "Wow," he says reverently, taking Yuuri's cock in hand before giving the tip a little kiss. His bangs tumble into his face and he reaches up to move them, but Yuuri's faster, brushing them back behind Viktor's ear, letting his fingers linger in the hair there.

Having Viktor's mouth on him feels indescribably good. Yuuri's got no experience to compare it too,  but based on the heat Viktor's drawing with his fingers and skilled movements of his tongue. He looks so _gorgeous_ doing it, bright eyes peaking up from beneath seductive lashes, rosy tinge across the bridge of his nose. His lips are so smooth and soft, glistening with precum and saliva when he stretches them over the head of Yuuri's cock, sucking him into his mouth.

It sounds similar to kissing, but with more slurping. It's strange, but not unpleasant, not by _far,_ and Viktor could make literally anything look beautiful. Yuuri tries to keep his breathing under control, tightly gripping Viktor's hair as pleasure blossoms in his stomach, sending tendrils down his legs that have him curling his toes. He can't stop the little gasps spilling freely from his lips, vision blurring as he stares at the top of Viktor's head. _His parting is mussed up from drying his hair,_ Yuuri thinks distractedly, using his fingers to comb it out.

Viktor pulls his mouth off with a slick _pop,_ meeting Yuuri's eyes with an amused stare. "Why always the hair?" His hand is still wrapped around Yuuri's cock, leisurely stroking in a way that makes focusing almost impossible.

"I don't know," Yuuri manages to gasp. "I just love it." It could be the colour, or the texture, or perhaps the person it's attached to. All he knows is that he could spend all day with his hands in it.

"Ok _aaay_ ," Viktor says lightly, smile crossing his lips before he dips back down. Yuuri starts ruffling his hair again the moment he begins, loving the feel of it between his fingers.

Viktor's not idle with his free hand either, sliding his palm over Yuuri's inner thigh, keeping him from squeezing his legs closed. His hands and mouth are so gentle, so loving and tender, and it's only a matter of time before Yuuri feels a familiar sensation building in his hips. "Viktor..." His voice is far too breathy, nearly a whine, and clearly not strong enough because Viktor doesn't even try to move.

His legs tremble when he comes, voice indistinguishable as he calls Viktor's name again, tugging perhaps a touch too roughly on his hair.

"Ouch," Viktor chuckles, licking his lips after he pulls away. "If my hair does get thin it'll be your fault for pulling it out."

"Sorry, sorry!" Yuuri hardly has time to wind down from the orgasm; he doesn't really want to, pitching himself forward into Viktor's arms. He wiggles out of the shirt he'd been sleeping in, wanting to touch as much of Viktor's bare skin as possible. He feels so good and warm and firm against Yuuri's chest, and this time the kiss tastes bitter, but Yuuri doesn't care. He tips Viktor onto his back, grinding naked against his hips, knowing through touch that Viktor's hard but not wanting to ruin the mood by looking, even though the desire to is overwhelming.

He pulls away without moving his face far, just enough to look into Viktor's eyes. His silver hair fans out on the pillow, pale eyelashes framing eyes the colour of the sunlight that ripples on the rocks at the bottom of the hotspring pool. His open gaze and joyful smile spread warmth through Yuuri's chest. He catches Viktor's hand, lacing their fingers together. "It kind of _did_ work, you know."

Viktor furrows his eyebrows. "What did?"

Yuuri settles closer against him, hovering so their noses are nearly touching, still squeezing Viktor's hand. "That stupid thing you said. I was so pissed off at you that I forgot to be nervous."

Viktor opens his mouth to say something, but Yuuri kisses him before he can. "And don't even try and tell me that you planned that! Don't ever do it again!"

"I won't," Viktor whispers. "Tell me...what were you thinking out there? I..." He's the one blushing now, pinned beneath Yuuri so he can't move, still not looking away. "I couldn't take my eyes off you."

" _Good,"_ Yuuri purrs, satisfied. He lifts his hand to Viktor's face, tracing his jawline and running his thumb over his bottom lip, drunk on hold he seems to have over him. Viktor stares at him as if enchanted, absolutely besotted by his charms. "I was thinking...that I don't care what anyone thinks. Only you."

There's a tightness around Viktor's eyes, a reminder that there will be consequences for them. But the weight of all that is nothing, lost in the gravity of what they mean to each other, what they can _do_ for each other.

 

 

 

 

 

Yuuri sits back on his knees, posture stiff, watching Viktor's movements as though it's another training session. Physically, it's not much different, but Viktor knows he's no longer looking at a fan starstruck by his idol. There's heat emanating from him; heat and desire and something else a lot deeper than that. Something that makes his knees weak and his chest hurt and his thoughts cloud over until there's nothing left in his head but Yuuri.

He sighs deeply, slipping in a third finger, keeping his legs splayed open on either side of Yuuri. He's so very hard, making a show of teasing his cock while he opens himself up using lube he'd obtained at the 24 hour convenience earlier. "Is this surprising to you, too?"

"No," Yuuri responds, voice soft. He sets his hands on Viktor's knees, rubbing soothing patterns on him. Viktor notes that he's starting to get hard again already. _So quickly!_

"Oh? So you always thought I was the one on the bottom?" If only because being blunt usually makes Yuuri react, and his reactions are always worth it. Well, almost always.

"N-No," he splutters. "I don't know! I never thought about it."

"Oh _really,_ " Viktor chuckles, pleased with the response. His fingers are sliding in and out quite easily now; it's been such a long time, but he's nearly ready. "You've never once thought about sex with me?"

And then Yuuri's expression breaks in the most _fantastic_ way, as he momentarily goes red to the tips of his ears, eyes narrowing as he leans in, hand sliding down Viktor's thigh. "Okay, fine, I have. Of course I have. You...you're." He gulps, determination set in his features. "You're _sexy._ "

"As are you," Vikor replies, using his most serious voice. He pulls his fingers out, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Sometimes I still can't believe it's because of a pork cutlet bowl, though."

Yuuri snorts, finally leaning in to kiss him. "I was pretending to be the beautiful maiden who seduces the playboy."

"I am thoroughly seduced, _my love._ " Yuuri's sudden bouts of confidence are oh so very arousing...not that Viktor hadn't considered him attractive from the very beginning, because he had. He has his own quiet grace about him, in a way...and those beautiful brown eyes of his, always watching, always expressive, sexy with or without the glasses. Viktor breaks the kiss and smiles, guiding Yuuri's hand. "I'm ready for you."

 

 

 

 

 

" _Yuuri,"_ Viktor gasps, panting, legs wrapped tightly around Yuuri's waist. His chest is heaving, nipples hard, fresh come spattered across his abs. His cock is still half-hard, dripping onto his stomach. His whole body is rosy and flushed, especially his face, eyes glittering as he stares at Yuuri with utter affection.

Yuuri's still hard, still pressed deep inside of Viktor, sweat dripping down his forehead and hips aching a little from the exertion. He's utterly _dazed_ from what he just saw, proud of the part he played in it, though Viktor had done most of the work with his own hand. But watching him come apart, watching the expressions his face could make...Yuuri's sure he'll never get it out of his head. Not that he'd ever want to.

"I can't anymore from this position," Viktor's saying, propping himself up on his elbows. "I'll switch to one that's easier for me."

"Okay," Yuuri replies, eternally grateful for Viktor's calm assuredness and the way he's treating this almost like a casual practice with his words, glossing over Yuuri's utter inexperience with sex. "I'm sorry if I hurt-"

"You didn't," Viktor says hastily, pushing himself forward to wrap his arms around Yuuri's neck. "It felt good, _really_ good. I want you to feel good, too."

"You already made me feel good," Yuuri responds, blush spreading past his ears and down the back of his neck. "We can stop!"

Viktor gives one hard glance between Yuuri's legs, eyebrows almost disappearing into his hair. Then he leans in close, finger traveling over Yuuri's chest and up the underside of his chin, expression transforming in a heartbeat into something seductive and predatory. "I want you to fuck me, please."

 Those words make the top of Yuuri's spine go numb. All he can do is pull Viktor in for a hungry kiss, letting himself be more possessive. Viktor's skin feels so smooth and flawless under his fingertips; Yuuri digs in his nails, until Viktor shivers and moans into Yuuri's mouth. Viktor's hair is so silky and pale, nearly dry now save for the sweat; Yuuri tugs at it, sharply enough to pull Viktor's head back, using the opening to kiss the base of Viktor's jaw, lapping at his neck with his tongue. _How much sucking does it take to leave a mark?_

"Yes, _yesss,_ like this," Viktor murmurs fervently, on his knees now, chest pressed tightly against Yuuri's, skin sweaty and sticky, his hands between them, distracting Yuuri with measured strokes of his hand. The lube makes loud sounds, but the distaste Yuuri had initially felt for it is starting to fade. He nips at Viktor's skin with his teeth, running his tongue over it soothingly before continuing his sucking, tasting the faint saltiness in his sweat. Their movements are both slow and deliberate, careful not to knock the other out of rhythm, as if they're melding together in body and soul for just a fleeting moment. Yuuri's heart swells as it had years ago when he'd get on the ice, close his eyes, and pretend he was one with Viktor by mimicking his movements. But this is so much different, so intense. And the Viktor here with him now is nothing like the one that always haunted Yuuri's imagination.

"Yuuri," Viktor whispers, breaking him out of his thoughts. _This_ Viktor...this Viktor has been distant, yes, but not in so different a way than Yuuri is distant himself. This Viktor is someone who has learned to keep people out while making it seem that he's doing just the opposite. But here, now, that distance is eradicated, and Yuuri's certain that this version is the real one, tenderly peeled back and revealed for only him.

"I'll be careful," Yuuri tells him, and Viktor smiles, seeming to understand that Yuuri's not just talking about his body. Their hands find each other, Viktor's slippery from the lube, but Yuuri holds him fast with strong fingers, kissing him softly on the lips. _I trust you to be careful with me, too._

 

 

 

 

 

Viktor's on his hands and knees, back arched like a cat, bracing himself against the headboard while Yuuri clings to his hips, thrusting with shallow, broken movements. He looks _gorgeous,_ from the nape of his neck to the round muscle of his ass, spread open so easily for Yuuri. This position does seem easier on him, because he's craning his neck so he can look back over his shoulder at Yuuri's face, colour high on his cheeks, enamoured smile on his lips.

Yuuri pushes his cock in as far as it will go, stopping with his thighs pressed flush against Viktor's, holding him tightly as his second orgasm shudders through him. He meets Viktor's eyes the whole time, so overwhelmed with feeling that it stings.

"Are you okay?" Viktor asks, reaching back to grab Yuuri's wrist, anchoring him.

"Yes," Yuuri replies, still trembling from the aftershock. If he lets go of Viktor he might be unable to remain upright on his own. "Are...are you?"

Viktor's shoulders relax, his smile widens, infused with affection, and he chuckles. "I'm _perfect._ "

A relief Yuuri didn't know he could feel washes through him, and he's able to stop trembling long enough to pull out and take off the infuriatingly slippery condom. The wastebasket is too far away and he doesn't trust himself on his feet yet, so he tosses it onto the carpet at the foot of the bed, crawling over to stretch himself out at Viktor's side.

Viktor hasn't changed position so much as sunken into the one he's in, lying with one knee drawn up toward his waist. He's flopped against the pillow, nuzzling it with his cheek, long bangs falling across his face.

Yuuri lowers his head onto the same pillow, so close that his image of Viktor's face is perfectly clear even without his glasses, which he'd lost track of at some point. Hopefully they weren't in the bed somewhere, getting crushed. "How late did you stay up last night?" It's not like Viktor at all to stay up late or look this tired in the morning.

"Oh, not too late," he says, in that blasé voice he uses when he's trying to avoid answering a question truthfully. "You know me. I love my beauty sleep."

"Wait a minute...I remember waking up and it was dark and you were watching things on your phone. Didn't I? Or was that a dream?"

Viktor narrows his eyes. "You only just _now_ remembered that?"

 "Yes...why, what time was that?" Something about Viktor's tone has him feeling a little uneasy...

"You woke up in the middle of the night and said we were going to have sex in the morning," Viktor laughs. "So I had to go to the store and buy condoms. I think it was about two in the morning once I got back."

"Oh my god," Yuuri gasps, covering his face with both hands. He can feel it heating up like a furnace.

"You don't remember?"

"Noooo!"

"You are so cute," Viktor says, putting his arm around Yuuri and kissing the backs of his hands.

Yuuri bristles somewhat stubbornly at being called 'cute' by the one person who may ever think of him as 'sexy.' He drops his hands away, surprising Viktor with a proper kiss, sliding his tongue into Viktor's mouth. By the time he pulls off, Viktor's glassy-eyed again, the word 'cute' hopefully dropped right out of his vocabulary.

"I can't believe I said I wanted to have sex," Yuuri mutters. Then, in a reverent whisper: "I can't believe we just had _sex._ "

Viktor replies with only a soft sigh. Turning, Yuuri realizes he's fallen asleep. He's facing the window, so the light catches his features  beautifully, making his eyelashes and hair glow white, like snow. Yuuri's never met anyone with such light features before. In photos and on the ice, he's striking and dynamic, but now...cradled in Yuuri's arms, asleep in a nest of soft blankets, he looks _soft._ Breakable. Yuuri wants nothing more than to have _this_ Viktor at his side forever, where he can't blink and disappear.

Viktor shifts slightly, rustling his hair. It fans across the pillow, falling into place along his natural parting, fine hairs shining silver in the sunlight. This time Yuuri doesn't hesitate, doesn't think, just _reacts._ He pokes the whorl with his finger, lightly so he won't wake Viktor up, and then kisses it gently with closed lips.

**Author's Note:**

> totally looking forward to writing better fics than this one once the show is finished airing and i can get a better grip on their characters, but this will have to do for now because i just had so many emotions about the kiss *cries*
> 
> comments are appreciated, criticisms are not (pls and thanks)
> 
> if you wanna, oh idk, talk about gay skaters with me, kindly pay me a visit at [choking-on-roses.tumblr.com](http://choking-on-roses.tumblr.com/)


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